


Whose Blood is Gold

by DoctorMagenta



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Banter, Bats, Blood Drinking, Bottom Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier Can Walk, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik Lehnsherr is a Tease, M/M, Safe Sane and Consensual, Vampires, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorMagenta/pseuds/DoctorMagenta
Summary: Supreme Patriarch Erik of the Golden Order pays a diplomatic visit to the Vampire Count Charles to discuss an alliance against the Chaos invaders.or the Warhammer AU no one actually wanted but you got it anyway. You don't need to know Warhammer universe to follow the plot. Or "plot".
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Whose Blood is Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by [InsertSthMeaningful](/users/InsertSthMeaningful/), thank you! <3

The imperial pegasus lightly descended onto the cold stones of a courtyard, now hidden in the deep shadow of the towering castle. A group of selected servants was already waiting, sent earlier to prepare the place for their master’s arrival - you didn’t really expect much hospitality in a vampire dwelling, and it was even questionable if the undead would provide human food to their guests. It was an important political visit, so the Supreme Patriarch guessed they would, but he never liked to leave those things to chance. Quite an unexpected trait for a wizard, who had to deal with the whimsical nature of the Winds on a daily basis, but on the other hand, he was just that good and hadn’t had a major miscast incident in years.

The Supreme Patriarch had visited many odd places in his life, first as a young mage hungry for knowledge and then as an ambassador and negotiator sent by the emperor. Never before had he actually met with a vampire count outside of a battlefield, but he had paid a visit to the tomb kings in the south and so could easily guess that they were not going to talk over a rich banquet as it was common in northern provinces. A good riddance, because he was not going to forfeit wearing his golden mask, and his outright refusal had almost resulted in civil war with Nordland. The Supreme Patriarch was an alchemist - he knew enough about poisons to not eat just whatever they placed in front of him. Most of the emperor’s courtiers considered him a paranoiac, but his brothers and sisters from the Order agreed that he was just taking the bare minimum of precautions and that no one should feel offended.

Weak, the winter sun was still in the sky, so the mage retreated to the chambers his servants had readied for his arrival. Some of the vampire’s mortal minions were around looking over the castle, but most of them were certainly sleeping through the day in their crypts and coffins just as their master. Not expecting anything for now, the Supreme Patriarch took out some books he had taken with him - not any precious ones, those were safe in his library - and focused on his current research. For a mage, the study never ended, and certainly some diplomatic mission was not enough to delay it.

Still, he wasn’t so absorbed with reading that he missed how the Winds shifted minisculely with the arrival of another powerful being. He raised his eyes the same moment he heard knocking. One look outside the narrow castle window confirmed that the sun had set. Without getting up, the alchemist nudged the doors’ mechanism, making them open themselves. There was an amused chuckle outside, in the corridor.

“That’s very nice.”

“A party trick,” replied the Supreme Patriarch.

He marked the page he was reading and closed the book, then rose from his seat to greet the other man. They had only ever seen each other in the distance on a battlefield before, but it was impossible to mistake the powerful magical signature of the vampire. Otherwise, he would have been unrecognizable as that fearsome enemy in a crimson helmet and blood-spattered armour circling high above his undead legions. Who was standing there now was a young man with a mane of floppy hair, dressed in comfortable, soft-looking clothes. The only thing not mellow and gentle about the vampire was the piercing gaze of his bright, cunning eyes. He smiled in a tight-lipped way, not showing his fangs.

“Erik Lehnsherr of the Golden Order, welcome to my domain.”

The vampire’s eyes lingered on the golden mask, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Count Xavier.” The alchemist bowed his head lightly.

This time the vampire actually smiled, showing a row of sharp, pointy teeth.

“I think you can call me Charles now. We already spilled a lot of blood together, didn’t we?”

“Yes - fighting on opposite sides.”

“It’s the best time to change that then.”

He sauntered inside with that inhuman grace of his kind and seated himself comfortably on a blood red sofa. The Supreme Patriarch took place in an armchair on the other side of an oaken table that hosted glasses and a bottle of red wine which was no doubt of excellent quality, but none of them was going to make any use of it.

“We’re facing a common enemy now.”

The count looked at him attentively like he could see through the obscuring metal.

“Indeed. You people apparently are more afraid of Chaos than you hate my kind and I'm glad to hear this. No one, apart from those mad norscan barbarians, would benefit from the invasion if it took place.”

“It’s funny” said the alchemist, even though he was not finding it funny at all, “that we used to say the same about you undead.”

“Even more funny considering the Empire was an aggressor.”

“A preemptive strike.”

“Of course.”

“And you were spreading your vampire rot outside of the Sylvania borders.”

“Rot? Excuse you…”

The brass candelabra shook menacingly and a few bats which up to this moment had been sleeping calmly awakened with a shriek. Both wizards just looked at each other and released unconsciously gathered magic. The alchemist spoke first:

“I’m sorry I shot your zombie dragon when we fought last time.”

“That’s all right. I brought him back after the battle. How is your pegasus?”

“Good, thank you. It was just a couple feathers.”

* * *

“No, no reflections,” the vampire was saying, as he lounged comfortably on the sofa. “Just in mirrors, but anyway, you can’t really see much in a puddle or a polished breastplate.”

“You’re swimming in gold. Can’t you pay someone to paint you a portrait?”

“Not swimming, wetting my toes at best. And vampire society isn’t very charitable, you know. No one would do me a favor just because I asked them.”

The alchemist hummed thoughtfully, took an ornamented candlestick from the table and got rid of the candles which were fortunately unlit. Usually he much preferred working with gold and silver than with something as ordinary as brass, but it had to do. It was also nothing more than a party trick, but one that he actually liked showing off because it required a certain amount of precision and concentration that not many people had, even among other golden wizards. The vampire watched him with huge eyes.

“Oh.” He took his effigy with careful hands and examined it closely. “Thank you, my friend, that is very thoughtful of you.”

“That was nothing.” The alchemist just shrugged, but inside he was really pleased with the appreciation his creation was getting.

“It is certainly something. And I feel like you flattered me here - are you sure that’s how I look?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure. I’m not a court painter to glamorize anyone.”

“Thank you.” The vampire smiled sweetly. “That’s very nice of you. I’m afraid my art isn’t really suitable for reciprocating such a gift.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Actually no, I think i have an idea.”

The vampire’s bright eyes glinted playfully as he rose gracefully and got to a window. There wasn’t much space to see what he was doing, but when he turned back, he was carrying an armful of sleepy bat. The creature yawned and tried to hide in the count’s fluffy vest. One flapping wing hit the vampire in the face, but he didn’t stop smiling softly.

“That’s Vlad. He’s two and really likes to sneak into my coffin when I'm not looking, silly thing. But he just loves being petted.”

He crouched next to the armchair and the alchemist hesitantly raised his hand to stroke the bat’s fur. It was surprisingly soft and warm and then Vlad looked at him with a pair of black beady eyes and yawned again, his mouth full of tiny, pointy fangs. He also had a long, pink tongue. After sniffing the alchemist’s unfamiliar hand, he squealed gently.

“He likes you.”

“You think so?”

Without a warning, the vampire deposited the bat on his guest's lap. The creature immediately plastered itself against the mage’s robe and looked up at him with those big, pet-demanding eyes.

“He kept biting my previous necromancer every time he could. I had to send the man away.”

“To drink blood?”

The vampire shot him an unamused stare.

“For your information, this species of bats eats fruits. No, Vlad just didn’t like him.”

Vlad didn’t look like he was capable of any malice. The alchemist hesitantly threaded his fingers through the reddish fur and the bat squealed with contentment, his whole expressive face showing that he was enjoying the attention. Petting a bat was a surprisingly calming activity. Some of the closer acquaintances had been pestering the Supreme Patriarch about adopting a cat, but he never had time and also didn’t consider this important. However, the warm, happy bat in his arms was quickly changing his priorities about having a pet or a familiar.

He startled at the light touch of cold fingers against his mask.

“Erik?” purred the vampire. “Can I call you Erik? How about you take that metal off your face?”

The alchemist was almost reaching to comply, but just as fast as it had come, he was shaking off the charm.

“Be careful, vampire,” he warned not unkindly, staring down at an apologetic smile.

“Forgive my slight slip of judgement. I just can’t help but be curious about what you’re hiding underneath this mask. Is it true - what they’re saying about an accident during an experiment?”

The alchemist just snorted.

“Sounds like they never heard about protective gear. We use it, you know.”

“Then why?”

“I like to intimidate people.”

Cocking his head to the side, the vampire brushed his fingers against the sleek metal.

“I’m not intimidated. I like the gold, it’s ostentatious in a way that fits you well, but I just want to see what you look like.”

“Very well.”

“Oh. Is it that easy?”

Instead of answering, the alchemist just loosened the clasps of his mask and took it away. As always, he felt weird when a cool breeze swept over his bare face the next instant, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he locked his eyes with the vampire, who was studying his expression intensely. What he didn’t expect was a very pleased “You’re ginger!”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all! See, Vlad here is ginger too.” The vampire scratched the bat’s head, who was still sprawled on the other man’s lap. “And you’re very handsome, also just like Vlad here.”

“Thank you, but you’re overly generous. No one is as handsome as Vlad.”

The vampire looked up with a wide smile and bright eyes. He didn’t try any charms this time and it was way more preferable. That silent exchange would have lasted longer if Vlad hadn’t interrupted them with impatient chirping, needing to remind them he was still there and in need of petting.

“He won’t like me anymore,” sighed the vampire. “You’re so warm and I can’t compete with that.”

He took the other’s hand in his cool fingers, holding it like the source of all heat in the world. The alchemist didn’t break eye contact as he brought their joined palms to his mouth, letting a warm breath caress their skin.

“Well, we can’t let that happen.”

* * *

“You’re not going to Change me, am I right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous - as if we were granting the gift of immortality to everyone we drink from. It’s a really nuanced and personal issue I’m not going to tell you about… so no, I’m not going to Change you, don’t worry.”

A bit impatiently, the vampire opened the alchemist’s brocade robe just enough to bare the left shoulder and neck of the human lounging on the red sofa. Vlad was napping hanging off the celling, not caring about the two men's activities anymore.

“Maybe I’ll just take it off? I don’t want to get blood on my best clothes.”

“Are you insinuating I’ll just spatter my food all over? That’s rude.”

“Is it? I never learned about the etiquette of vampire dinners.”

“At least you admit your ignorance. There’s still hope for you.”

There was probably more coming, but the alchemist casually leaned his head on the other’s arm, showing off the long line of his neck, and any other comments died on the vampire’s lips. He swallowed visibly, eyes getting dark and hungry. But even though his fangs must have already been hurting with need at that moment, he didn’t lunge on his prey, even teased like that. Instead, he just relieved his stress by compulsively licking his already red lips.

“Yes, you can,” said the alchemist with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

He didn’t even have time to blink before he had the vampire straddling his lap, his head and arm held in a pair of strong arms. But instead of the vicious bite he expected, he felt a few tentative licks at the soft, vulnerable skin of his throat. He exhaled shakily, and only then he felt pressure and two light pinpricks, almost unnoticeable if he was not focusing. Intensive warmth flooded him and he melted against the sofa’s backrest a bit more, half closing his eyes. It was… comfortable, and probably the first time in years his body found relief from the little pains that had become nothing more than a background noise at that point - from tense shoulders, migraines and unhealing blisters on his hands. It was a dizzying feeling and one you could easily grow addicted to. The vampire on his lap was a steadily warming presence, and it only added to the sensation of being afloat in calm water.

He sighed and it made the vampire’s fangs shift in his wound which he was only now aware of. The vampire growled and tightened his hold, like he expected his prey to run away, but he shook it off immediately, finally letting go of the bite side and drawing back. He looked almost spooked as he licked his lips, getting rid of any leftover traces of blood.

“I’m so sorry! I took too much, I didn’t intend to-”

But as he shifted, the alchemist noticed something else poking at his abdomen. The vampire noticed this too, made an undignified sound and tried to jump from the other man’s lap as inconspicuously as possible. He didn’t get a chance to do so, however, caught by a pair of hands in an iron grip. The next moment, the alchemist pulled him back and into a kiss that tasted like blood. When they parted for breath, their rapid heartbeat was exactly mirrored, the vampire feeling more alive than ever.

“I’ve changed my mind - get out of these clothes,” he demanded, tugging at the embroidered collar.

As the alchemist moved to do so, he felt a slight tingling at the place of the bite and reached for it instinctively. His hand was intercepted, and the vampire licked at the wound again, then proceeded higher up, leaving a trail of kisses and light nibbles just along the line of a pulsating artery without breaking the skin.

“You’re not helping.”

“Yes, sorry. Continue?”

What he didn’t expect was for the alchemist to grab him by his hips and swiftly reverse their positions on the sofa, then slide onto the plush rug underneath. He settled between the vampire’s legs, who just looked at him with wide eyes and a stupid look on his face. The other man looked up with too much satisfaction and with a lazy motion nuzzled against the vampire’s erection clearly visible under his soft clothing.

“Oh,” the vampire sighed softly.

“Hmm, I let you drink my blood, I think it’s only fair if you offer me a drink too.”

“There… is wine over there?”

“That’s too far away.”

Through combined effort, they got rid of most of their clothes, at least as many as they could without moving away. The alchemist was still kneeling on the floor as he leaned down and just breathed over the other’s most sensitive areas - just a straight up tease, nothing more, smirking as he felt fingers tightening in his short-cropped hair.

“I think I see where all my blood went, don’t I?”

“As if you don’t approve of the usage.”

“I approve.”

And with that he bent down to kiss and lick at the flushed head, still teasing a bit - at least until he heard a broken curse and the tugging on his hair became almost painful with how the vampire couldn’t control his own strength. After that, there was no dragging things out, the alchemist getting down and sucking with a skill that would impress anyone who wasn’t currently half mindless with arousal.

“Erik, darling… You’re so good.”

The vampire couldn’t help thrusting up and he met no resistance, just a satisfied humm that seemed to reverberate through all his systems. After that, he didn’t even try to hold back, and soon enough he was spilling deep down the other’s throat. With difficulty, he managed to loosen his grip and allowed himself to fall back. When the alchemist was sure that the attention was on him again, he made a point of licking his lips. Somehow, even sitting stark naked on a rug, looking up and with a vivid red bite mark at the side of his neck, he looked way too smug and self-satisfied.

With a growl, the vampire lunged from his seat and pinned him down by his wrists with a quick show of inhuman strength. What he didn’t expect was that instead of fighting for dominance the other man just moaned harshly and arched up, trying to get some friction on his weeping length.

“Looks like you have still some blood left to spare yourself.”

“You could lend me a hand, you know.”

The vampire smiled, showing all his fangs.

“You don’t want me to return the favor?”

“I would really like to keep that spare blood of mine, if you don’t mind. Really rude of me to tempt you to take a bite.”

“As you like.”

With that, he let go of the other’s wrists and slid down, intentionally dragging his body against the other’s. It was his time to be a tease. He gathered a copious amount of precome on his cool fingers, but kept the touch light, careful not to bring any relief. Then, without a warning, he lifted his partner’s legs up to position them over his shoulders and inserted his slicked fingers into the revealed area. The alchemist swore and trashed as his opening was probed and massaged. He couldn’t help leaking even more and the vampire took instant advantage of that to gather all the excess. He had the patience of a dead at his disposal - at least if he wasn’t being riled up at the same time. He took his sweet time and soon he was being cursed in three languages, none of which he had ever been cursed in before.

“Charles!” shouted the alchemist in desperation.

“Oh, you remember my name?”

In fact, it was the only thing left in the alchemist’s mind by then. But it looked like it was the right thing to say, because the vampire finally tightened his grip and brought him off in an embarrassingly quick time, hot come landing on them both. It certainly would have ruined their clothes if they had still been wearing any. They both slumped on the uncomfortable, scratchy rug for a long while. It was quiet, apart from Vlad’s occasional shifting and scratching.

The vampire was a good host again and rose first - only to let out a scream of distress that instantly alarmed the other man. The cause of this was the little sculpture from earlier, now melted into a puddle. The alchemist couldn't help but snort even at his gift recipient’s clear distress.

“That’s what you get for messing with a metal wizard! It’s good that your castle is made of stone, otherwise I’d be checking every nail if I were you.”

He reached and cast his magic again, making the metal rise up, but this time creating an obviously penis-shaped object.

“Serves you well.”

The vampire growled, then grabbed it and tackled the other man back into the rug. He pressed the cold metal just where his fingers had been not long ago, against the still slick and wet entrance of the other’s body.

“When we’re at serving well, darling...” he said in a low voice.

They did, in fact, make use of that new shape before restoring the sculpture back to its proper form.


End file.
